candy corn. Across from her was Erin O'Hara, also a junior, and one of Rosie's best friends.
The scenario: Two weeks before, Rosie's boyfriend, Mark (senior, blondish, semiattractive), showed up at school with a fist-sized hickey on his neck. Everyone assumed it was from Rosie. The following week, Erin walked into school with a matching one, and people start putting two and two together. (Side note: Why do people let other people give them hickeys in visible places?)
Clarissa, who, above all else, hated cheaters, was über enthusiastic about this case. I, on the other hand, was less than psyched. After everything that had gone down with Jed, and after I'd hung out with Anderson behind Clarissa's back, I felt (A) sort of uncomfortable and (B) sort of hypocritical laying down the law for Erin and Mark.
“Yes,” said both the prosecution and defense teams. Jenny Murphy, whose lap was filled with books and notepads, simply nodded.
“Will the prosecution please call its first witness?” Lili said.
Eric Ericsson stood up and snorted. “Surely. The prosecution would like to call Kelly Silver to the stand.”
Kelly, who couldn't have been more than five feet tall and walked with a limp, wobbled toward the witness stand. I wasn't particularly fond of Kelly; she talked too much, and most of what she said was unintelligible.
“Do you swear to tell the truth, and nothing but the truth, so help you God?” Marco asked.
“Ya, totally.”
Eric adjusted his belt. His shirt—plaid, red—was tucked in and pressed. “Kelly. How do you know the defendant, Ms. O'Hara?”
“Thank you so much for asking, Eric. I know the defendant because we, like, go to school together.”
“And you two are friends?”
“I wouldn't say that,” Kelly muttered. “We, like, know each other. Not biblically or anything, though. Just because I kissed Amy Steinberg at a Halloween party last year doesn't mean I'm a lesbian, no matter what anybody says.”
Eric turned to the jury. “Let it be stated, for the record, that Ms. Silver and Ms. O'Hara are not close friends. Also, she is not a lesbian.” He turned back to Kelly. “Why don't you tell me about last Wednesday?”
Kelly leaned back in her seat. “Last Wednesday was wild. I mean, like, crazy . I had to stay after school because I get tutored in math—I'm, like, totally dumbabout numbers, so whatever—and I was leaving school and walking to my car”—she smiled at the jury—“FYI, I drive a BMW”—she fanned herself with her hand—“and I'm, like, doing my own thang when I see these shadows where all the smokers hang out. Meanwhile, I'm totally on the phone with my BFF, Jenny, and I remember being like, God, Jenny, just shut up for a hot second, because I think I see a ghost . And I, like, legit thought it was a ghost. No joke. But when I got closer, I was like, Oh, that's not a ghost. It's Erin O'Hara and Mark Durango, making out, and I remember being like, Awwww , but then I was like, Wait, back that shit up, those two are not together! Mark is dating Rosie Goldstein, who, by the way”—she offered Rosie an apologetic frown—“is such a better person than Mark or that rabies-infected, Macarena-dancing lady of the night Erin.” She paused. “And that's all I remember.”
“No further questions, Your Honors.” Eric returned to his seat as Jenny Murphy rose from hers.
“You may cross-examine the witness,” Clarissa said.
“Thank you,” Jenny said, taking a few steps, her heels clapping loudly on the floor. “Kelly. Isn't it possible that the people you saw kissing were not Mark Durango and Erin O'Hara, but two completely different people?”
Kelly blinked. “Are you saying I'm dumb?”
“Of course not,” Jenny said. “I'm simply raising the possibility that you may have been mistaken.”
“I'm not dumb, and I'm not blind,” Kelly spat,wiping the corners of her mouth. “I know what I saw. You're trying to cover this up”—she pointed at
The scenario: Two weeks before, Rosie's boyfriend, Mark (senior, blondish, semiattractive), showed up at school with a fist-sized hickey on his neck. Everyone assumed it was from Rosie. The following week, Erin walked into school with a matching one, and people start putting two and two together. (Side note: Why do people let other people give them hickeys in visible places?)
Clarissa, who, above all else, hated cheaters, was über enthusiastic about this case. I, on the other hand, was less than psyched. After everything that had gone down with Jed, and after I'd hung out with Anderson behind Clarissa's back, I felt (A) sort of uncomfortable and (B) sort of hypocritical laying down the law for Erin and Mark.
“Yes,” said both the prosecution and defense teams. Jenny Murphy, whose lap was filled with books and notepads, simply nodded.
“Will the prosecution please call its first witness?” Lili said.
Eric Ericsson stood up and snorted. “Surely. The prosecution would like to call Kelly Silver to the stand.”
Kelly, who couldn't have been more than five feet tall and walked with a limp, wobbled toward the witness stand. I wasn't particularly fond of Kelly; she talked too much, and most of what she said was unintelligible.
“Do you swear to tell the truth, and nothing but the truth, so help you God?” Marco asked.
“Ya, totally.”
Eric adjusted his belt. His shirt—plaid, red—was tucked in and pressed. “Kelly. How do you know the defendant, Ms. O'Hara?”
“Thank you so much for asking, Eric. I know the defendant because we, like, go to school together.”
“And you two are friends?”
“I wouldn't say that,” Kelly muttered. “We, like, know each other. Not biblically or anything, though. Just because I kissed Amy Steinberg at a Halloween party last year doesn't mean I'm a lesbian, no matter what anybody says.”
Eric turned to the jury. “Let it be stated, for the record, that Ms. Silver and Ms. O'Hara are not close friends. Also, she is not a lesbian.” He turned back to Kelly. “Why don't you tell me about last Wednesday?”
Kelly leaned back in her seat. “Last Wednesday was wild. I mean, like, crazy . I had to stay after school because I get tutored in math—I'm, like, totally dumbabout numbers, so whatever—and I was leaving school and walking to my car”—she smiled at the jury—“FYI, I drive a BMW”—she fanned herself with her hand—“and I'm, like, doing my own thang when I see these shadows where all the smokers hang out. Meanwhile, I'm totally on the phone with my BFF, Jenny, and I remember being like, God, Jenny, just shut up for a hot second, because I think I see a ghost . And I, like, legit thought it was a ghost. No joke. But when I got closer, I was like, Oh, that's not a ghost. It's Erin O'Hara and Mark Durango, making out, and I remember being like, Awwww , but then I was like, Wait, back that shit up, those two are not together! Mark is dating Rosie Goldstein, who, by the way”—she offered Rosie an apologetic frown—“is such a better person than Mark or that rabies-infected, Macarena-dancing lady of the night Erin.” She paused. “And that's all I remember.”
“No further questions, Your Honors.” Eric returned to his seat as Jenny Murphy rose from hers.
“You may cross-examine the witness,” Clarissa said.
“Thank you,” Jenny said, taking a few steps, her heels clapping loudly on the floor. “Kelly. Isn't it possible that the people you saw kissing were not Mark Durango and Erin O'Hara, but two completely different people?”
Kelly blinked. “Are you saying I'm dumb?”
“Of course not,” Jenny said. “I'm simply raising the possibility that you may have been mistaken.”
“I'm not dumb, and I'm not blind,” Kelly spat,wiping the corners of her mouth. “I know what I saw. You're trying to cover this up”—she pointed at
Similar Books
